Are You Scared Yet?

Chapter Four

Important fact number one: A person who thinks he's drowning is
stronger than he looks, and that's why you should get into the water
with him only as a last resort. The best ideas are to throw him a
rope, or to hold a big stick out for him to grab, or to just row out
in a boat.

Obviously though, all those better ideas weren't applicable, so fact
number two is: If somebody goes under right in front of you, instinct
will take over. Although I did know that it could be risky.

And it sure was. When he pulled me under, I'm surprised my life
didn't start flashing by. Only this brings up fact number one again.
I wasn't in an all-out panic, but I was at least close, so that
caused an exponential increase of my
strength. Later on, Earl said I almost yanked his arm out of its
socket.

Once safely ashore, at first we were just getting our shit together
and not concerned about anything else. Sitting side by side holding
onto each other was nice, but I wasn't thinking about where that
might lead because I was feeling relieved and proud of myself. It's
not every day you get to be a hero and expecting something in return
would have detracted from the feeling. And Earl was feeling a bit
embarrassed. He was grateful and relieved and all that, but...

After awhile he said, “I'm sorry I panicked. ... I can swim
some... well, dog paddle, but when I went under, I lost my head. ...
But I guess I scared you too, huh?”

“Well... a little,” I admitted. “But it's okay. We
both made it out and that's all that matters.”

And so there I was feeling noble... and then I decided to dive for
our clothes... only no luck on that... so we were in a predicament,
but I still wanted to be honorable, so that kept my hormones in check
for awhile. And of course being eaten alive by mosquitoes isn't
conducive to feeling horny either.

But then I spotted the Cutter floating not too far away, so I swam
out and retrieved it, swam back, tossed it to Earl and after he
sprayed himself down, we started working on getting the boat out of
the water. It didn't take long, I pushed from behind and he pulled.
It had a chain in front attached to a small anchor and also two
paddles, so I guessed we'd just row it back across and then we could
worry about getting home.

Only as he was turning the boat over to dump the water out, almost
off-hand he said, “I know a place down at the end of the
lake... It's an abandoned house. I've been there before, so it ought
to be cool enough, so what I was thinking was, we could stay there
till dark, then we can try to get home. That sound like a good idea?”

So, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could, I said, “Now that
you mention it, yeah. ... But are we going to try going there in the
boat?”

“Well, I think it's a slow leak, and after going to this much
trouble, it makes sense. We'll just stay close to the shore and hope
we don't see anybody fishing or anything.”

So I shrugged and said I guessed we'd just have to keep our fingers
crossed. But I didn't mention that I also hoped we could somehow
manage not to have hard-ons while we were rowing across. Because if
by chance we did happen upon someone else...

Well, that person would almost certainly jump to some conclusions. I
started getting a boner right after I caught that slight hitch in his
voice again. So that's what I meant by him being “almost”
off-hand and me trying to sound nonchalant, but since his was also
starting to straighten out again, and since what he was saying was,
we were going to be in that house for the rest of the day naked, I
don't know why we even bothered. Trying to act nonchalant, I mean.

Only he didn't mention his condition, and by the time we were out on
the water – him earnestly rowing and me sort of prayerfully
trying to help all I could by paddling with my hands – we were
both limp again. We had at least a mile to go and understandably we
were nervous. In fact, by the time we were coming up on the first
slight bend, I'd decided to sit in the bottom of the boat. Up on the
seat, I felt very exposed. Only Earl was still up on his seat because
he had to be... so he was still exposed... so it wouldn't look right
to anyone we might happen across... so my stomach was in knots... and
then I happened to notice that we were sinking.

Trying not to sound overly-concerned, I remarked, “Know what?
We don't have a small leak, we got a big
one.”

I could understand why he wasn't all that keen on getting back into
the water, so after thinking about it, I said, “Well, maybe it
won't take on water quite as fast if I get out. If it's shallow
enough to wade, I'll try pushing. ... That'll probably be better than
me trying to paddle with my hands anyway.”

As it turned out, the water was up to my chest, so I guess that was
about the optimum depth, because I was mostly pushing straight in
front of me, and it did seem as though we were moving faster, but I
was also fairly sure I was going to have some sore muscles after it
was over. It was very much like isometrics, and it was tough going.

It was, because in addition to all that, I was looking directly at
his middle. While we'd been in the boat I'd tried to avoid any
lingering glances, but now it was unavoidable. It wasn't that I
didn't want to look at his dick, it was just that I didn't want to be
paying too much attention to it until we had some privacy. Once
inside that abandoned house – if we ever got there – I'd
have plenty of chances to look and if I popped another, it would
probably be because he'd popped one too.

Although I still had no idea what he had in mind. I had the
impression that he had something
in mind – and I'd enjoy it, I was sure of that – but
what?
I was no expert, but it seemed to me that even straight kids my age
could be up for some playing around – up to a point, but I was
still hesitant to stray beyond the limits the other boy had in mind.
Sean, Stephan, Carlie and now Earl. They led and I followed, always
hoping for more, but it was their call.

Only now I was staring fixedly at his middle. I was trying to pretend
that it was only because it was directly in my line of sight, that it
was of some interest, and I also wanted to be matter-of-fact about
it, but I was still getting hard again. He had a very nice dick.
Short and stubby, but fairly big around. The fact that he was still
hairless somehow made it seem more interesting. Nice, plump balls
too. I liked watching them move around as he put everything he had
into rowing. Oh good. Now I'm hard as a brick. Way to go!

I'd known him for a little more than an hour. So just because we'd
matter-of-factly compared sizes, just because I'd saved his life,
that didn't mean I could stare at him and get a raging hard-on. And
this time, it didn't seem inclined to go back down. I could see that
house up ahead – at last – but that meant the water was
getting shallower. So on one hand it was, “Thank you Jesus,”
and on the other it was, “Oh shit!”
I started getting red-faced in spite of myself.

“So I didn't say it was a bad thing, I was just stating a fact,
that's all. Don't worry about it. Just the way things are, it's not
like there's much we can do about it. Know what I mean?”

I wasn't sure if I did or not, but he didn't seem to be laughing at
me, so I answered, “I guess. ... `Cause it seems to be
contagious.”

“Well, that's cool. ... I guess. ... Sorry. Just had to say
that, but anyway, I'm always popping one. ... What's the weirdest...
no, wait. What I mean is, where was the most unlikely place you ever
popped one?”

Is he trying to put me at ease? Sounds like it. Well, that's
cool... I shrugged. The water
was getting progressively shallower, but before my erection popped
into sight above the boat, I ventured, “Oh, I don't know. One
time I was in a taxi and I'm not sure what caused it... maybe we hit
a pot hole, I don't know, but whatever, it was a beauty. I sure
wasn't trying to send any messages to the driver, but it was stuck!
It wouldn't go down for nothing!” (And just as soon as that bit
about sending a message popped out, I started wondering if now Earl
was going to think I was trying to send him
one.) (To be honest, I'm not sure if I was or not.)

I probably was, though.

“Lots of times the only way it'll go down on its own is if you
stop thinking about it. Except it's not possible to not think about
it, you ever notice that?”

He made that observation only an instant or so before my erection
came into sight above the end of the boat. So if anything, I blushed
a little more, but... “Yeah, I've noticed.”

Earl giggled. “So you must be thinking about it right now then.
... Nice one, Nathaniel!”

We must have been quite a sight, pulling the boat up onshore, turning
it over, wrapping the chain around a tree... we were all business,
but all the while, we were both stiff as we could be. So apparently,
our throttles were stuck even if we weren't talking about them. No,
Earl said, “I'll tell you something, if you hadn't got out and
pushed, we might not have made it. ... At least not with the boat, so
I'm glad that's taken care of. You sore?”

... “What? You mean sore muscles? I'll probably be sore all
over by tomorrow.”

“Well, when we get inside, I'll give you a rub down. Maybe
that'll help.”

Foreplay? We gonna have some of that? I
started, “Well, yeah, it probably would, but-”

And I was going to mention that he probably had sore muscles as well,
but as we started up towards the house, he rushed on, “Nobody's
lived here since 1934. Reason I know is because there's a calendar in
what used to be the kitchen. Still got some furniture in there too.
It was back during the Dust Bowl. You couldn't grow anything, so
people just left and never looked back.” Then with a creak, he
pushed the front door open, and...

Well, it was interesting – there was an old bed stand and some
broken down chairs, some books were strewn across the floor, a naked
doll with one blue eye – so under normal circumstances I could
have been looking around for quite awhile.

“There's a storm cellar out back,” he added, “but
without a light... well... over here's a good place, so just lay down
on your stomach and I'll see what I can do about those sore muscles,
all right?”

I'm sure I was shaking a little the first time me and Sean jerked
each other off, but that was mostly nervous anticipation. I was
definitely shaking when I crawled into Stephan's sleeping bag, but
that was because I was crazy about him. And I'm sure I had a few
bouts with the shakes in Carlie's case, but a lot of that was because
of all the crazy things we were doing. Well, it was also about
playing sex games, because it's exciting, but I swear, when I got
into position on the floor, I was shaking all over. So I guess it was
nervous anticipation all right, only in this case...

One, I didn't know how far things were going, I had no idea, but two
was the simple fact that we would be there for the rest of the day.
And I'm not sure about this, but possibly a third factor was that I
hardly even knew him. Not that I'd known Carlie all that long before
he got me out of my clothes, but the circumstances were different,
because it was more like a dare game. And another thing about Carlie
was that in no time at all, I felt like I'd known him almost forever,
but I didn't know much of anything about Earl. But in spite of that,
I had the feeling that I was on the verge of going to a place I'd
never been before.

And I was right.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Maybe it had a lot to do with our positions, me on my tummy with my
eyes shut and him straddling me. I could feel his knees pressed
against my hips and I definitely felt his fingers. And he was good at
it, it was a legitimate rub-down. At least for the most part, it was.
He started at the back of my neck, then he moved down to my
shoulders, kneading, pulling, slapping a little... so okay, I guess
it was a legitimate rub-down, but whatever, it felt good. I was
almost starting to relax, in fact. The anticipation was there, and
there was no denying that it was erotic, but at first that came
mostly from the realization that I was trusting him completely, that
he could go any place he wanted. Only as his fingers methodically
moved down my back, it also felt erotic simply because it was. It was
a sensual, relaxed feeling. He was humming softly under his breath,
but he just kept working his way down, lower and lower.

But of course I was wondering if he was going to do my butt that way.
I don't think butt rubbing is a part of a professional rub-down -
unless you're talking about one of those massage parlors, in which
case I suppose it would be an integral part of it – but
needless to say, whether that was something a legitimate masseur
would do or not, I was hoping he would. So when he moved his position
straddling me down to around my knees, I was full of breathless
anticipation. Would he, or wouldn't he?

He did, without any hesitation at
all. There was no rush, he just kept moving his fingers down, slowly
and steadily, but finally, he reached my ass. He didn't change his
rhythm, he just kept slowly and sensually kneading and pulling and it
felt wonderful. Of course it did, because kneading and pulling on
one's ass cheeks means they're being pulled apart from time to time.
So that was sensual to the nth degree. Nobody had ever messed with my
butt like that before. Both Stephan and Carlie had felt it, they'd
even squeezed it – and of course I returned the gesture –
but this was something else entirely! And that was before he finished
by running a finger down my
crack, over my little puckered mound, and right on down to my
perineum and then to my balls. He just barely rubbed there –
and unfortunately, my dick was pointed up towards my belly button at
that time – but still, it almost took my breath away. So while
he was kneading and pulling on my butt, I only thought things had
reached the nth degree, this really was
it.

But then he moved on down to my inner thighs. And it's still a fairly
major erogenous zone, but that's when he laughed quietly and said,
“If somebody was to walk in on us, they'd think we were gay,
sure as the world.” (Pause.) “So are you?”

Just like that, and for a few seconds, I didn't know what to say.

Only he was still working his way down. Well, actually he'd moved to
the outside of my thighs, but he hadn't broken his rhythm, and he was
talking softly, so it didn't really sound like he was trying to drag
a confession out of me...

Although if it's a confession you're wanting, his method is very
effective. “It's not going to blow my mind if you are, okay?
I'm just asking, that's all.” And he kept rubbing and kneading.

I had this ringing sound in my ears. That's the way it is with me,
when I'm scared to do something, but I have to eventually, so I might
as well get it over with, but at any rate, I heard myself say, “Yeah,
I guess I am.”

“Cool.” He was still working his way down my legs. He
never paused at all, just, “Cool.”

But that certainly sounded encouraging, so I started, “So...
you're cool with me being gay, but... well, are you... um... well...”

“Am I gay too?”

“Well, yeah. ... That's what I was going to ask. ... Trying to,
anyway. And sooner or later, I probably would've... But are you?”

By that time, he was kneeling beside me, working on my calves. “Yeah,
by now, I'd have to say I am. That bother you?”

“Not... No, it doesn't bother me at all. ... Or at least not in
a negative sense, it doesn't-” (small, slightly euphoric
giggle) - “any, but... oh shit! I'm ticklish... there!”
(He was working on the sole of my left foot.)

“Oh, really? Well, how about your right foot?”

Needless to say, the sole of my
right foot was equally ticklish, so that ended my rubdown. Or at
least what I guessed was the first part of it. Only before having my
front rubbed down, I thought that I should rub on his
backside for awhile. We had all day, so there was no sense in rushing
things.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I'd sneaked several quick feels of Carlie's ass, and they lived up to
my expectations. And I'd certainly gotten an awfully good feel of
Stephan's. Not bare, but in just our boxers, it still didn't leave
much to my imagination, and because that was my first prolonged,
really sensual feel ever, it was a wonderful thing. Only in my
imagination, bare would have been ever so much better. It seems that
I'm always wanting just a little more.

Or a great deal more. That's closer
to the truth. Sort of like the summer I was eleven when we were at
Banff National Park. It was awesome. No matter how many pictures you
might have seen, no matter how many travel films – whether in
stunning HD or not – nothing can compare to actually being
there. Only the whole time, we mostly stayed at the hotel. And while
ChâteauLake
Louise really is like a fairy tale-type
castle, and Lake Louise was something to see, and the mountains
surrounding us were spectacular, I wanted to see more. I wanted to
travel the length of the Icefields Parkway. In fact, I wanted to take
the bicycle tour. All one-hundred and forty-two miles of it, seeing
one extravagantly beautiful vista after another, past craggy peaks
topped by glaciers, massive waterfalls and turquoise green lakes
flanked by deep spruce and fir forests. And not only that, but as I
continued reading to my mom from the brochure, we'd have a guide, a
support trailer was provided along with meals and accommodations and
the average mileage would only be a gentle thirty miles a day. So
honestly, doesn't that sound like the trip of a lifetime?

Well, to her, it didn't. Even though
she was always going on about physical fitness, (along with a lot of
kooky new-age stuff), all she wanted to do that week was lounge at
the spa or at the pool and all my dad wanted to do was play golf. So
to say the least, I was a bit put out. I mean, Lake Louise was
beautiful (and turquoise green and flanked by spruce and fir) but I
wanted more!

And as for what that has to do with me and Earl... well, I was trying
to draw an analogy, that no matter how much you've read about doing
it – any of it – no matter how much you've fantasized, it
still can't compare to being right on the verge. Of what, I had no
idea, but before the day was over, it seemed likely that we'd be
doing all sorts of things to each other, because after all, we were
both gay, right? We'd admitted it to each other... and we were naked
and would stay that way for the rest of the day... and we were
thirteen and it seemed that he was just as horny as I was...

So right, several new “somethings” seemed to be right
around the corner.

Starting with his butt, for instance. Being able to rub on it for as
long as I wanted, that alone was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I
gave the rest of him a fairly thorough rub down, but I saved his butt
for last. First, I worked on his shoulders and his back, then I
detoured to his feet (and only tickled them a little), and from
there, I moved up. So by the time I finally got to his inner thighs,
we were both getting pretty breathless.

Then I reached his soft twin globes and I could have spent ages on
them. It was almost like I was working with bread dough, kneading and
pulling and patting to my heart's content. I particularly liked
pulling his cheeks apart.

Then it was time to run a couple of fingers down into his crack and
he seemed to be enjoying that as well. So since he'd rubbed across my
hole, I saw no reason not to do the same, only I pushed in a little
with my thumb. I was just teasing, but even though my thumb went no
further than his sphincter muscle and no deeper, it was still a lot
further than I was expecting.

And he was startled as well. He jerked and I after I hurriedly pulled
my thumb away, he squeaked, “You just made me lose it!”

Well, I thought that was a little premature, but I didn't have any
room to talk, because I promptly lost it myself. I felt it jerk, so
there was no question about it. (So I suppose I can safely surmise
that if Stephan had really pushed his hands down inside my boxers, I
would have shot off all over both of us, right then and there.)

But at any rate, after a couple of deep breaths Earl said, “The
thing is though, right now, I don't want to go that far. Okay?”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

So at first, I was feeling
pretty chagrined. That and a bit pervy.

Or
very pervy – there was some ebb and flow on this – but on
the negative side there was:
“You
save his life and then you poke your thumb up his butt. That... well,
you're nothing but a sneaky pervert!”... and
so on, but then on the more positive side there was: “Well,
damn! I just saved his life, didn't I?” ... and
then there was the fact that I didn't really mean to... and besides:
“He
rubbed his finger across mine, didn't he? So...”

But overall, I'm sure I was looking fairly doleful, only then Earl
said, “Why don't we get to know each other a little better
first? You know, just talk? Like for example, what do you hope to be
doing... oh, twenty years from now?”

“Well, I'd really like to be having some sex by then.”
That's what I almost said, but instead I asked, “Twenty years
from now? You really want to know?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“To be the head of Bulgarian Studies at Columbia University.”

... “No, seriously, what's your goal-”

“That's it. Because as far as know, there's no university in
the U.S. that has a Bulgarian Studies program. `Course first I'd have
to be fluent in Bulgarian, and not only that, I'd have to learn
Danish, because the only school I can find that has a Bulgarian
Studies program is the University of Copenhagen. But really, Bulgaria
is an interesting country. Well, Denmark would be interesting too,
but I'll tell you how I first got interested in Bulgaria. I've always
liked history, so I'd heard about the First and Second Balkan Wars,
but the thing is, there was almost nothing about them in our history
books. At school, I mean. Barely even a page, and that was mostly
about how they paved the way to World War I because Serbia came out
pretty good, only they wanted more, which bothered Austria-Hungary to
no end, so of course they wanted to crush the Serbs... which caused a
lot of resentment in Serbia, but at any rate, I went to the library
and one thing led to another and then on to another and so on. You
know that there were actually two Bulgarian Empires? The second came
to an end when the Ottoman Turks conquered them, but-”

“You're serious, aren't you?”

“Well, shit yeah. ... At least for now, I am. Next year, who
knows, but for now, that's it.”

“So why don't you just go for a history major then?”

“Well, I-”

“But maybe my goal is every bit as weird as yours. I want to be
a librarian.”

So that gave me pause, because fair or not, Earl being a librarian
seemed much stranger than my ambition. Mostly because I suddenly had
a vision of him sitting at the front desk naked – or even
stranger...

“So... you going be dressed up like a rabbit?” If you
think about it, that's almost like Alice In Wonderland.

But sounding slightly wounded, he replied, “No, by then I think
I will have outgrown it. And I do have a reason, you know. ... But
I'm not going to tell you what it is. And anyway, I no longer have
a suit. But I want to work in reference. So basically, I'd be getting
questions - some weirder than others, like for example, about
Bulgaria - but the deal is, if I don't know the answer, I just look
it up. So I'll be like Mr. Answer-man and another thing I'd like is
that I'd be working mostly by myself. Somebody comes in wanting to
know something, I'd tell them, `I'll have an answer for you shortly,
but for now, go away and don't bother me. All right?”

And then he went on to explain that what he really wanted was to be
working at the State Library or at some university or maybe even at
The Smithsonian. So he wasn't thinking in terms of reading books to
the kiddies at Children's Story Hour, and somehow, that was a
comforting thought.

Believe it or not though, that's when we started drifting slowly back
to the subject of sex. It probably took close to an hour, but seeing
as how we were both thirteen and naked, and also that now we knew
each other better - not only we were both gay, but we were also
hopelessly geeky – eventually, sex came up again. I mean, how
could it not?

It started when Earl mentioned that another reason for wanting to
work mostly by himself was that he wouldn't be as likely to be asked
if he was any kin to Eleanor Roosevelt. So I assured him that
prominent teeth or not, I didn't think he looked like her at all. And
even if he did – just slightly – she was still a great
lady and probably also a lesbian even if back in her day, one's
sexual preferences were much more likely to be one's own business and
not Rush Limbaugh's. But no, I thought he looked more like Bugs
Bunny, who was really sort of cute.

So of course he promptly said, “Fuck you,” but after I
said that really, he looked a little more like a cross between Bugs
Bunny and Beaver Cleaver – he was wondering if I really did
think he was sort of cute.

So I said I did and at that point, I also thought it was a good time
to apologize about almost sticking my thumb into his hole and I
guessed the best way to do that was to explain that I honestly hadn't
done very much, so I was awfully inexperienced. Sex-wise, I mean.

So he said, “Oh. Well, that's strange, because if I just count
the last three years, then I've probably had even less. Before then,
I had more than enough... experience... but it was kind of one-sided,
if you know what I mean. ... And if you don't, well, maybe I'll tell
you about it one day and maybe I won't.”

Then he lapsed into silence for a little while, so that could have
been taken as another stop sign. Only I still had some hopes, because
we were sitting side by side with our arms draped over each other's
shoulders and I was sort of squeezing and he'd been squeezing back.
That was a nice feeling, but after saying what he did, he started
stroking the side of my face and that felt even nicer. But I didn't
want to be a complete copy-cat, so while I did want to stroke back –
and I got to it eventually – I didn't want it to seem like I
was only doing it because he was doing it to me, so I kissed him. It
was nothing more than a peck on his cheek, but it was the first time
I'd ever done anything like that too, and when he gave me a tentative
peck in return, it felt fantastic! It was like one of those
fuzzy-wuzzy, warm glow type feelings and it was really cool.

But while we didn't stop squeezing and rubbing on each other, I guess
we were both feeling a little awkward, so that's when I sailed off
into my story about visiting Banff and how one day, I was still going
on that damn bicycle tour. And yes, I was also in the process of
drawing that analogy I mentioned earlier– or at least I was
trying to – only I got side-tracked for awhile because that's
when he started talking about how some day we might just do that. He
didn't know when, but one of these days, we might. Me, him and
Carlie.

So okay, I thought that was good too. Because I was serious about
wanting to take that tour, but I was also trying to get back to my
primary point... without being too obvious, but-

“I really like planning trips,” Earl continued and with
that, he was off to U.S. 83. How it runs all the way from the
Canadian border down through the Dakotas, Nebraska, Kansas, the
Oklahoma Panhandle and Texas all the way to Brownsville without ever
merging with an Interstate – except for a short stretch when
you're coming into Laredo, but it would really be a great trip. No
big towns at all, just Americana at it's small-town best.

Me, I got sidetracked somewhere in Nebraska, but I managed, “Well
yeah, but the point I was sort of try-”

Only then he was off in the other
direction, because after you cross the Canadian border, U.S. 83
becomes Manitoba Provincial Highway 83 and goes almost to
Saskatchewan. And they have some big buffalo herds up there too.

So I was like, “Oh. But-”

But then we were headed off for the Yukon and Alaska. And it did
sound interesting. I'd really love to make a trip like that, only
that was in the future and I had some more immediate concerns. And I
don't think I was being pervy at that point, I was simply acting my
age. If you're gay and the person you're with is and if you're both
naked and getting along very well, then you're more than likely to
have urges and I had one. Under normal circumstances, just thinking
about that urge might have been enough to make me squirt, but having
gone off not too long before, at least that didn't happen.

But anyway, he'd reached Kluane National Park. He'd told me about all
the wildlife in it - moose, caribou, mountain goats, wolves, grizzly
bears, wolverines, eagles and so on, and he'd just got to the fact
that it also had the world's largest non-Polar ice field –
when he stopped and asked, “Um... what are you doing?”

I was between his legs right then, with my head not too far above his
knees, but I answered, “Just looking.
... You seem to be getting some good definition, though. ... But I'm
just thinking, is all.”

“Oh. Well... damn. I forgot where I was.”

“Somewhere in the Klaune National Park. So are we in the Yukon
or Alaska now?” And with that, I inched closer and that
tantalizing scent got stronger. It was an involuntary thing – I
think – but I guess it's like the flowers and the bees. The
flower wants to get itself pollinated, so poof, it sends out a scent.
Although in my case, that would be reversed, but...

“We're still in Canada, but are you... I mean, do you really-”

“Well, I don't know. If I did, would you mind? ... I haven't
ever before, but I've read about it and I sure want to. It's not like
I'm in love... well, I do like you quite a lot, but back in-”

And I was going to mention Stephan – for what that was worth,
because I honestly didn't know if I'd ever hear from him again, but
Earl interrupted with, “Well, I guess... I mean, I haven't ever
had anyone... I mean, I was always doing it to the other... person...
and it's not so bad...” (So it
didn't sound like he was trying to talk me out of it),“And
I'm not really in love... either... but I...I bet you
haven't ever had it done to you either, have you? ... So-”

“Oh, hush,” I said hurriedly and not giving myself any
more time to think, because to paraphrase Margaret Thatcher: this was
not the time to go wobbly, I scooted up, grasped his erection with
one hand, took a deep breath, opened wide and... “I think he
just sent out another whiff” ... all at once, I had his
velvety soft mushroom shaped head in my mouth! A threshold event for
sure! And just like almost every boy/boy story I'd read said, it
didn't taste bad at all. (I would've been very disillusioned if I'd
found out otherwise.)

But speaking of those stories: well, that was the entire point. I'd
read some decently good ones
with just one little problem and that was that the boy was
very indecisive before finally getting around to doing it, and I
didn't want to be like that.

So I wasn't. Although I was definitely having to think everything
out. And there were times when I was thinking that his penis was a
lot bigger than it looked. It sure felt that way, and to be honest, I
wasn't used to having my mouth as wide open as it was for that long.
There were times when physically, it felt very uncomfortable, but
emotionally, I never felt that way at all. One thing that kept
popping into my head was what I probably looked like while I was at
it, and it's difficult to explain, but I was getting off on imagining
that almost as much as I was on how I was making Earl act, and he was
producing some awfully good sound effects. More than a few whimpers
and some very nice squeaking sounds and I was making him wiggle all
over the place! But the way I look at it, if you're going to do
something, then you should give it your best. Assuming that it's
something you really want to do, I mean.

So some of the stories I'd read mentioned licking on the other's pee
hole, so I tried it and sure enough, he liked it a lot. And of course
there were other things I wanted to try out, like for example:
letting his penis slide along the roof of my mouth – so I did
that too. And we both liked that as well, but on take one,
deep-throating was beyond my reach. I almost managed it – and
if it had been a little skinnier, I think I could have – but
not on my first attempt. Or the second either, so I ended up just
sucking on his bulb and just below. But it really was great, because
I was busily rubbing on his balls and down between his legs.

But really, no matter how much you've read about doing it or how much
you've fantasized, it can't compare to actually doing it. It can't
because all at once you discover that it can't put it into words, or
at least not adequately. If it was just the mechanics, maybe, but
it's the emotions that go along with that act. I'm sure I got just as
much out of it as he did. It was like everything was focused right
down there and it wasn't long until we could have been in the middle
of Grand Central and we wouldn't even have been aware of it. Or if we
were...

Well, I suppose we would have cared at least a little, but we still
would have been reluctant to stop.

Although I was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that it can be
hard work. Towards the end I was thinking, “Will you hurry up
and squirt? I mean, seriously...”

At least something like that, but then in a strained, slightly urgent
tone of voice I heard him say, “I'm about to... I'm about to...
oh shit... I'm just about to- oops.”

There wasn't much and it had almost the same texture as mine –
thin and watery – except that's all I'd ever tasted anyway...
but it really was cool. Although when he returned the favor...

Well, it was intense, even if it didn't last very long. It might have
taken awhile to get my pump primed, but it was almost there before he
started. I wish I could put it into words, though.

It sure felt good. I'd read about being enveloped by that wet warmth,
but when it happened, Oh my God.

And to think, it was only a little past noon. But the cuddling was
nice as well. Just that and talking about all the places we'd like to
go someday, was utterly fantastic.

Today's quote is: “This is not the time to go wobbly.”

I'm just saying, is all.

Comments are still looked forward to. Or at least, most of them
are. And again, thanks for reading my story.